I Love You More Than Life Itself..

by **prince_force** Thu Jun 19, 2008 6:31 pm

I love you more than life itself
But I’m afraid to love.
My heart is like the fragile wings
Of a tiny little dove.

I'm scared to get too close.
I feel that I can't win.
You'll love me for a little while
Then you'll set me free again.

I've lived so long on hopes and dreams
I don't know what to do.
I don't think I can trust my heart,
For it belongs to you.

I know you'll only hurt me
Yet, I still keep running back.
Between the paths of our hearts
There's a worn and beaten track.

You've got my heart held on a string.
It’s breaking right in two.
Enough belongs to me -to hurt-
The rest belongs to you.

I know that somewhere in your heart
There is a place for me.
I just don't know how to find it
And there's no way to make you see.

I can only hope that someday
You'll wake up and you'll find,
That while my heart belongs to yours,
Yours, too, belongs to mine.

by **luv.inspecta** Thu Jun 19, 2008 11:06 pm

ffantasticcccccc ! very nice .. keep it up ... ! we always love our loved ones more then our life .. !

by **pegasus202** Wed Jun 25, 2008 9:46 am

More than whispering pines
Or sounds from wind chimes

More than clear mountain springs
Or magnificent rings

More than sunsets in skies
Or freshly baked pies

More than handfuls of money
Or the taste of fresh honey

More than stars in the sky
More-
as time passes by

I love you more than life itself….

by **m3ga._.l0rd** Fri Jul 11, 2008 2:23 am

How stern are the woes of the desolate mourner
As he bends in still grief o'er the hallowed bier,
As enanguished he turns from the laugh of the scorner,
And drops to perfection's remembrance a tear;
When floods of despair down his pale cheeks are streaming,
When no blissful hope on his bosom is beaming,
Or, if lulled for a while, soon he starts from his dreaming,
And finds torn the soft ties to affection so dear.
Ah, when shall day dawn on the night of the grave,
Or summer succeed to the winter of death?
Rest awhle, hapless victim! and Heaven will save
The spirit that hath faded away with the breath.
Eternity points, in its amaranth bower
Where no clouds of fate o'er the sweet prospect lour,
Unspeakable pleasure, of goodness the dower,
When woe fades away like the mist of the heath.

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